LLC03: Love Letter After Breakup
Creative Writing – Love Letter Contest 2013
© YourStoryClub.com
It was a beautiful breezy morning I was walking along the beach, feeling the gentle touch of the waves on my feet. Only a fool would not fall in love with the mesmerizing natural beauty of the Andaman and Nicobar Islands; the writer in me had discovered a new muse in it. It was Boxing Day and at some distance my brother’s six year old son was busy with his new sand castle kit. After our parents died my brother and I made it a family ritual to meet every Christmas, as otherwise it was difficult to keep in touch.
Our parents got separated when we were hardly six or seven. After that we stayed partly with our mother and partly with our father, but the parent child relationship between us always remained weak. I do not want to blame my family but then, the weak relations I saw shaped my perceptions about relationships in general. Several times I tried to be in a relationship but each time I would walk out of it, for reasons which I myself would not understand. My brother was smart; he left behind the bitter experiences regarding relations. Even when I was parting ways with Meera he tried to pacify things; but then at that time I was not ready to listen to anyone. I always envied my brother particularly when I used to see him with his family on festivals. I wanted to be with Meera but then the demons inside me had always stopped me.
My sister-in-law waved at me, calling me for breakfast. Soon we all were engrossed with a hearty south-Indian meal accompanied with a casual conversation full of lame jokes. All of a sudden I noticed a huge wave building up and coming towards us. Soon there was commotion all over the beach.
……..
My head was feeling very heavy; I was struggling to open my eyes as the bright sunlight was pinching them and, my body felt very weak. Everything looked alien. Behind me was a thick forest. There was no one else on the beach; the sea was the only familiar thing. I had no idea which day or what time it was. My clothes were torn, and my left arm was bleeding. Something with a rough edge had brushed against it. Thirst and hunger was killing me and out of desperation I unsuccessfully tried to drink the sea water. Initially I could not recollect anything about reaching this isolated island. After hours of search a coconut quenched my thirst and hunger and my mind started functioning once again.
The back pocket of my jeans felt heavy. My wallet and a ball point pen (surprisingly it was working) had come floating with me. It had some money, some visiting cards and a partially washed picture of Meera my ex-girlfriend. She demanded too much of my time and attention but I was adamant about my creative isolation. Blinded by success and career I had failed to notice her unconditional love for me. At times I had thought about getting back to her, but my ego was the biggest hindrance. Being an artist many things had become my muse but nothing was able to replace her. The guilt of breaking her heart had become burdensome.
I could only remember a huge wave and all of us trying to reach a safe place. Not sure about what had happened, I believed in all likelihood this wave had wiped us all. The next thought was about getting out of this barren island, but the question was how. On the beach with a stick I wrote ‘HELP’, hoping any rescue team would see it. I collected more coconuts and some twigs to light fire but as evening approached my fears about survival simply grew. I was so tired that I do not even remember when I slept off. When I woke up I realized that I had slept holding Meera’s picture in my hands.
The next morning was no different, and the situation became worse when it started raining. I took shelter in a small cave. I stood near the entrance fearing there could be wild animals inside the cave. All kinds of pessimistic thoughts about my brother and his family and my own survival conquered my mind. I wondered if anyone was there searching for me; the reality was I wanted Meera to come searching for me. But the question was why she would do that, keeping in mind that I had left her. The third day passed by in a similar fashion. Be it I opened my eyes or I closed them I only saw my entire life flashing in front of them in slow motion. There cannot be anything more painful than living with the idea that next breath that you take could be your last breath. I even felt this was the punishment for breaking Meera’s heart. Remembering the special time I had spent with Meera simply made me cry. The movie ‘Cast Away’ had become my life, the only difference was with every passing second I was giving up hope. I had enjoyed the movie thoroughly but living it was a nightmare.
……………….
By the fourth day my body felt extremely weak and I had no hopes of survival. Coconut water was enough to prevent dehydration but not enough to give strength. I was scared about eating other varieties of fruits available on the island. My mind had started playing games with me. There were several moments when I saw a rescue boat coming towards the island or a coast guard helicopter approaching the island, but they were only hallucinations. The worst was when I went towards the sea thinking a boat was there; and when I came back into my senses I realized I was in midst of water and there was no boat. Somehow I managed to reach the back to the sea shore. The difference between reality and illusion was getting blurred. The answer was clear to me why the character ‘Friday’ was developed by. I had never felt so alone in my entire life.
Then on one end of the beach I spotted a pigeon with a broken wing, trying to fly. Meera’s words started echoing in my ears “You might be parting ways with me but the telepathic connect which you and I have will always be there”. I had never missed her so terribly. The feeling of being wanted by someone in his/her life had never haunted me more. The will to survive once again arose in me, and once again in bold letters I wrote ‘Help’ and lit a fire. I wanted to get out of this place alive and I wanted to be with Meera. I did not want to die alone such a miserable death. The idea of seeking help through telepathy would have sounded ridiculous in normal circumstances but in a desperate situation like mine everything made sense.
I kept calling out Meera’s name for hours only to be left disappointed. I wanted to speak to Meera for one last time. I even hallucinated about Meera joining me on the island, and it looked so real that I even felt her touch. At times I saw visions where she was tying a band aid around my wounded arm. I was in grip of all kinds of fears. Frustrated on being unable to find a way out I started scribbling on the outer wall of the cave with a small stone. It struck me that I could write on whatever small pieces of paper I had found in my wallet, so even if I would be found dead my message will be conveyed.
……..
Today I am writing my heart out, I do not know whether I will get this opportunity again or not. The content might appear like scribbling but with a weak body this is the best I can do. you. This is my last letter for Meera, destiny had brought us together, but I being a fool defied it. I pay the price for it with every breath I take. My brother had tried to explain things to me but everything had fallen on deaf ears. I do not know exactly what has happened and how I have reached here. The only thing I can remember is that there was a big wave and all of us were washed away by it (My brother and his family as well). If you find them then convey my love to them. The hope of being alive to tell you all this is dying. The hope of finding my brother and his family alive is very meager. But I have to do this.
I am here all alone wondering if there is anyone in the world who would want me to be alive without any selfish reason. The only answer I get is you. I know I do not have any right to say this after mercilessly breaking your heart and leaving you in the middle of nowhere. It was only when you were gone from my life I realized the special place you had in my life.
I got blinded by my professional success. Your small gestures which had always inspired me had started appearing like hindrances in my work. But once you were gone my heart craved for those gestures. After you many women came in my life some genuine and some fake, but then each time the special connection was missing, which I had shared only with you. Two years have passed by but there has not been a single day when I have not thought about you. I wish I could bring back the time when we used to sit on terrace after dinner and you used to patiently listen to my stories. Even if tired after a long day at work, you kept awake only for me. My every new story longs for your ears. Every time I walk along the beach I miss the way you gently held my hand. My journey as a writer and as a person would have been meaningless without you. Today if someone asks me to define love I would say the way you had loved me. You are and will always be the inspiration behind all my stories (that is if I live).
It was only you who had loved me so unconditionally. I do not want to pull you back if you have moved on with your life, but I had to say all this so that my soul does not carry this burden with it. I wish to be alive to tell you all this, but destiny again seems to be having other plans. As my soul parts this body I would say
Love you Meera!
……………
I opened my eyes and saw the ceiling fan moving at a snail’s pace, and I thought “even heaven seems to have been equipped with modern appliances”. I assumed I would land in heaven only. On my right I saw a drip attached to my hand. Then I felt a familiar soft gentle touch on my left hand, I turned to look it was Meera. I wondered if this was real or was my mind again playing games with me. Tears rolled down her eyes and she hugged me. “You are alive” she said in a quivering voice full of joy. Yes it was real and I was not hallucinating. I was alive and the nightmare was over.
“What had happened” I asked.
Meera “There was a tsunami in the Indian Ocean, but now everything is fine” and she held my hand reassuringly.
For hours we smiled looking at each other, thanking God in our hearts for giving this second chance. I just could not take my eyes off her. I wanted to jump with joy but the drip had restricted my movements. This was probably the best New Year gift I had received in ages.
“But then how did you know I was there on a vacation in the Andaman?”
Meera smiled and hushed in my ears “telepathy”.
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